Only If
by Into the Umbra
Summary: Romance and drama are hand in hand in this story full of nasty cliffhangers and twists. Please stick around, I'd love to have you. ;D
1. Hesitation

He wasn't one to fuss over something so trivial; at least, that's what he liked to think.

His deep brown eyes flew across the words on the page in front of him, but the words only lingered in his mind for a moment before completely fading into the blackness that was a cluster of thoughts.

He ran his fingers through his brown hair, frustrated, as his hand came to rest on the back of his neck. He exhaled sharply, reading over the same sentence he had started a moment before, only to be interrupted again by the same cluster of thoughts that had rudely stopped him before. The void kept nibbling at his attention, causing him to lose focus again.

It was the third time he had tried to understand the sentence on the white page in front of him.

He hated paperwork. He hated it with a blind fury that could only be understood by him in his own jumble of thoughts that sporadically bounced around in his skull. He quickly picked up the page and put it back on top of the monstrous stack next to him, promising he'd get back to it later.

He knew he probably wouldn't, and he would get scolded for that.

Just as he had angrily forced the page back onto the pile, sending it from a neat, organized stack to one with papers sticking out in every which direction, he heard the familiar sound of the doorknob clicking and the hinges of the door squeaking ever so slightly, alerting him to someone moving quickly into his office.

He knew who it was just by the way they walked, with such an authority and quickness that was so professional, it was almost criminal. The soft click of heels on the floor also alerted him of the identity of the stranger now making their way to his desk, the atmosphere of the room going from frustration to urgency in the split second it took this entity to rush into the room.

"Doctor Stiles." The woman's voice scolded, a new pile of folders and papers being slammed down right next to his already messy pile he had just began to neglect.

"Are you really slacking off, again? If you keep neglecting your paperwork, I'm sure someone other than me is going to start being angry with you."

Her professional voice cut into the atmosphere of the room, causing the Doctor to frown deeply. He massaged his temples before adjusting his glasses, pushing them further up on his nose. He slowly lifted his head to look at his assistant, a disapproving glare on her face as she looked down at him, her palms on the front of his desk.

"Angie…" he began, exhaling again, "I just stopped for a moment to clear my head. You don't always-"

"Look, I really don't have time for your excuses right now, Dr. Stiles." She frowned, crossing her arms. "Did you forget you have an operation in ten minutes, _Doctor_?" She hissed the emphasis of the word Doctor as if she wished it didn't have to be spoken at all.

Derek stood up quickly, his brows furrowed. "No, Angie, I didn't." He spat, walking around his desk quickly. "I'm not a child, and I wish you would stop treating me as such." He slammed the door behind him after he walked out, leaving the Nurse glaring at the door. She huffed, walking towards the door to prepare herself as well.

Angie wasn't used to the Doctor being this, how could she put this, _irritated_ in general. His happy, carefree demeanor seemed to be up in the air this morning, leaving his thoughts to plague at him. She wasn't sure what was causing him to act this way, but it wasn't doing much to help her mood, either. She quickly left the room and walked down the hallway the Doctor had walked down moments before, to go get ready for their next surgery.

Her feelings for the Doctor were what kept her jaded. She wouldn't show it, and she overcompensated hiding her feelings, making her always scold him and be snippy with him.

She now wondered, as she stalked down the hallway after their most recent operation, if this is what had sent him into his stage of self-reflection. She asked herself if her acting so cold to the Doctor is what had caused him to be so angry and irritated with every little incident that didn't seem to go his way this morning.

She felt as if she should go apologize to him, but she couldn't even begin to think of what to say. How was she supposed to explain her behavior from day one?

At first, her behavior was just her professionalism taking control of her. Being around someone as carefree as Dr. Stiles irked her, causing her almost OCD like behavior to strive for everything excellent to be even more potent than it usually was.

As her and the Doctor got closer, and he started to show that he was indeed up to the task of having the lives of thousands of people in his hands, she began to trust him more. But she also began do develop feelings for the man that she worked with every day, sometimes into the late hours of the night.

This sent her into a self-preservation mode, her personality becoming cold and unwelcoming to the Doctor. Of course, this wasn't anything new to him, it was just her professionalism again.

Or so he thought.

Of course, she couldn't explain to him that the reason she was scolding him so much was because of how she felt for him. That would have been ridiculous, and of course, unprofessional. She wanted to apologize, from the bottom of her heart she knew she wanted to apologize, but what was she supposed to say? Was she supposed to march into their office and tell him that she_ loved_ him?

That wouldn't have made any sense in the least.

So, she decided she would stop over thinking and go to their office, and apologize by just saying what came to her mind. Of course, she would watch what she was saying, so as not to let anything slip, but she wasn't going to spend any more time thinking about what could possibly be said to the brown haired master surgeon that she had worked beside for the past three years.

Angie hesitated at the door, pushing down on the handle of the door much more softly than she had before, almost shyly. She opened the door carefully, walking in and shutting the door behind her equally as quiet. She turned around to the room, expecting to see the Doctor sitting in his desk, slacking on his paperwork again.

That wasn't exactly what her eyes fell on.

The Doctor was sitting on the edge of his desk, facing the door, looking down at the tiles below his feet. He didn't even look up to her as she entered his office. He looked defeated, or like he was lost deep in his thoughts, not really realizing any of the events that were happening around him, or even aware of the time passing at all.

The usually confident, but now timid, Nurse clasped her hands in front of her.

"D… Doctor Stiles?" She questioned meekly, waiting to see if he was in the mood to even acknowledge her right now.

"Angie." He began, looking up at her. He pushed himself up off of the desk, running his fingers through his hair. "I need to apologize."

The Nurse looked at him, confusion washing over her face.

"What for?" She asked quickly, her hesitation fading as she let him take control of the conversation.

"My behavior this morning. Before the surgery. I shouldn't have snapped at you, and.." he sighed.

"There's really no need to apologize for that, Doctor… I was on my way in to apologize to you as well."

"Well, don't." He replied quickly, catching her attention. "There's something I need to say to you, Angie."

The Doctor stood there, his nerves slowly taking control of his demeanor. He wasn't often a nervous person, he was almost always in touch with his emotions and confident with whatever he did. This was different as he stood in front of the blonde Nurse, her emerald eyes probing at him, waiting for him to continue.

It was always like this with her. He always got nervous when he needed to talk to her about something that was other than their work. He could always talk to her easily about patients, because there was no depth to that, no way for her to judge his character by him talking about facts, not feelings or opinions.

He always felt like a fool in front of her, especially because out of his nervousness his clumsiness was born, making him seem like he was careless and living in his own little world. The truth was, every time he was near her, his thoughts bounced around in his head so violently that he couldn't think about anything else, especially what the outer appendages of his body were doing.

All of those thoughts that bounced around always screamed, each one fighting to be heard over another. They were almost always the same. They screamed for him to stop being such a coward, to stop fearing her rejection. He couldn't help fearing that, he couldn't help being afraid of the way her deep green eyes might widen and then look away, as if it pained her to say that she truly didn't feel the way he did.

It was always like that. He would protect himself with lame excuses, being branded as incompetent and neglectful, in her mind. He sacrificed his own self image to keep his feelings a secret, for fear of her never being able to talk to him the same way again.

He couldn't do that any longer. He no longer had an excuse.

But at that moment in time, as he opened his mouth to speak, words failed him. They disappeared into his void of thoughts the moment both of their pagers beeped furiously, signaling that there were emergency patients coming to the E.R.

Just then, his confidence would have to be stored away for later, and his thoughts would have to continue thrashing around vigorously in his skull, just as they had for the entire time he had known her.


	2. Jar of Hearts

Derek stepped out of the emergency room, defeated.

There was no way they could have saved that emergency patient. It was already too late by the time the ambulance had gotten to the accident scene, and by the time it had brought the patient to Caduceus, the vitals had dropped down to only 10.

He knew he had to try though. He knew he could save him. He had the healing touch.

But there was too much damage. As soon as one thing was fixed, something else would cause problems, and the process kept repeating itself until the patient's body couldn't handle all the strain of the operation.

He walked into his office and stood in the middle of the vast space, staring at the wall. His eyes were blank, and his thoughts were somehow quiet for once. He couldn't help but think that maybe him thinking about what he had to say to Angie had somehow distracted him from the operation.

He dropped his gaze to the floor, clenching his fists.

Why? Why did he have to lose that patient? He knew he could save them. He could save anybody. He defeated GUILT. But then why did he lose this emergency patient? He wanted to blame the ambulance; he wanted to blame the man that pushed this poor victim down onto the tracks, but no. He couldn't. This was all on him, and he knew it.

And so did Angie.

Angie stormed into his office, closing the door violently behind her. Her steps lacked the professionalism that they normally carried and now sounded like thunder with each footfall, especially since the Doctor's mind was completely devoid of thought, for once.

The silence was worse than the screaming, fighting thoughts, in his opinion. Silence bred uncertainty, when in the wrong environment.

Angie huffed, crossing her arms. She stopped right behind him, waiting for him to turn around. He didn't.

"Well?" she asked impatiently, throwing her arms down to her sides. "What was that, _Doctor_?" she hissed, more impatiently than before.

The Doctor looked up from the floor, but stared straight at the wall in front of him. He could feel Angie's intensity from behind him, he could feel her irritation radiating off of her.

"Angie, please." He sighed, his words lacking any emotion at all.

"Don't 'Angie, please,' me! You're a _doctor_, Derek! You could have saved that patient if you really wanted to! What were you thinking?" She began to shout, her face turning pink from anger.

Derek turned around, glaring at her.

"Nurse Thompson." He began, surprising Angie with the acidity of his voice, let alone the fact that he used her last name. "You can be mad at me all you want for losing a patient, but don't you dare, _**ever, **_question my desire to try to save patients."

Angie's surprise slowly turned into frustration as she glared right back at him. She clenched her fists, stepping towards him. "Then why didn't you save him?"

"What did you want me to do? _**Will**_ my life away into his body? Angie, I can only save so many. He was beyond the point of being able to be saved when he was brought into the ER. And how dare you accuse **me** of losing the patient?"

Angie's eyes narrowed, "What exactly are you suggesting, Dr. Stiles?" she spat.

"It was just as much my fault as it was yours losing the patient. Being a nurse doesn't give you the right to criticize **everything** a doctor does, right or wrong. It shouldn't give you the **audacity** to think that you're any better than me just because you weren't the one conducting the surgery yourself. You want to call the shots? Do you want to do _everything_ that you say I'm doing wrong? Because, frankly Angie, I don't give a damn." By the end of his rant, he was almost yelling, the blood rushing to his face.

Angie just stood there, frozen. She stared at the Doctor, who was now pacing back and forth, with wide eyes. She had never seen him so angry, or ever witnessed such extreme emotion from him, especially towards her. After she registered the words that he so boldly threw at her, her eyes narrowed even more, and she stood with her feet apart, taking deep breaths.

"Dr. Stiles, I can't believe-"

"Believe what, Angie?" He cut her off, throwing a death glare her way, "Believe that I could think this was your fault? Are you really so far up on your high horse that you can't see that this is your fault, too? You're quick to judge others, but when it comes to judging yourself, and taking responsibility for something you did wrong, you believe that you're such a saint that it wasn't your fault." He swiped his arm through the air violently, accidentally knocking folders off of his desk.

He stormed past her towards the door. He stopped, his hand resting on the door handle, and sighed. "Get over yourself, Angie." He spat, walking out of the office and slamming the door behind him.

Angie stood there, stunned. This time, the anger didn't come back. She knew he was right. She knew that every time she messed up, she blamed it on someone else, and that someone else almost always just so happened to be none other than Doctor Stiles. He was the doctor of course, and it was his prime responsibility to take care of the patients and make sure he saved as many as he possibly could.

But she knew it was also her responsibility.

Derek walked back into his office, late at night. The clock had just struck eleven, and most of the doctors were getting ready to leave or were on their way out. Of course, some would stay for the night shift, just in case of emergencies, but most everybody had been working harder than usual for the last couple days, for one reason or another.

He felt bad for his outburst at Angie earlier that day. He especially felt bad about the comment he had left with her before storming out of his office. _Get over yourself, Angie._ That's what he had said to her. How could he have been so irrational as to say something as careless as that? He knew he had to apologize, again. But how?

He walked up to his desk to see that all of the folders he had knocked onto the floor earlier were in perfect order, in a pile on his desk where he usually put the finished paperwork. He looked curiously at the top of the pile to see a note, in Angie's handwriting.

_Dr. Stiles-_

_I'm sorry for my behavior earlier. You had every right to yell at me, I was being selfish. I don't know if you'll choose to forgive me or not, and if you don't I'll understand. If you need anything, I'm with Leslie finishing up our rounds. _

_-Angie_

He sighed. He knew he had to go find her and apologize in person. He walked across their office briskly, taking large strides. He opened the door quickly, storming briskly into the hallway, when he came face-to-face with someone he hoped was Angie. It would have made his search a lot easier, and put his mind at ease a lot quicker.

Of course, everything that had happened that day was terribly unexpected.

And this was no exception.

* * *

OH GOSH DRAMAAAAA!

Haha I actually had fun writing this chapter. It's sometimes fun to have people yell at each other, it's dramatic hehe. xD

I hope everyone likes this as much as the first chapter! And I hope you'll continue reading!

Reviews are always welcome, I need my inspiration from some place besides the Tron soundtrack, ya' know? :)


	3. Monster

Derek shot backwards, attempting to push his office door open with his back to get back into the room. But, before his back even hit the door, he heard the click that signaled it was closed, and that it would not be opened unless he pushed down on the handle.

That, he felt, was impossible, and his last means of escape to get away were closed off entirely. He was trapped.

He felt that feeling. The familiar feeling that he had felt so many times before. The feeling that had grown to gnaw at his emotions and his consciousness. That feeling, that guilty, agonizing, gut-wrenching feeling that almost made him dizzy and made him want to fall back onto the floor, regardless of what may have been waiting behind him. It was that feeling that had crept upon him every time he was about to operate on a new strain of GUILT, or any type of operation involving the notorious disease that spawned from medical terrorism.

Although, this bout of that "feeling" was much, much stronger than it usually was.

It was also fear. His heart had leaped into his throat the moment he had seen what he was up against, the very second he had stepped out of the door to his office and cast his eyes upon what was in front of him.

He desperately wished his reaction time was a split second faster. He could be in his office, a whole mass of drywall, wiring, and other various wall components between him and this… this _thing_ that was now in front of him.

He hit the door behind him with a thud, knocking the wind out of him. Adrenaline is a funny thing, he had no idea how fast he was moving or how desperately his body wanted to get as far away from this thing as possible. He pushed up against the door as far as he could, desperately trying to distance himself from the thing across the hallway from him.

How could this be? Why was it here? It should have been gone, the Doctor knew that, he was the one that had made it so. He was the one that had banished this being not long ago. Then why was it here?

He forced himself to stop asking those stupid questions to himself. He couldn't rationalize why this entity was here, why this horrid being was just feet away from him. There was nothing rational about the situation at all. Asking questions to himself in his own mind wasn't going to make the situation's outcome any different, or change the fact that there was a terrible monster that, if it wanted to, could lunge at him right then and take his life away.

He made a snap decision. This thing, this _monster, _when the Doctor had first seen him, was in poor health. Poor health being an understatement, he was in essence dead. He couldn't run. At least, the Doctor hoped this was the case. He willed his legs to move and bolted down the hallway, scrambling around the corner as fast as he could.

Of course, this day was far from lucky, as he happened to run right into Angie, knocking her over as he also fell backwards into a sitting position on the linoleum.

"Ah! Doctor Stiles!" She whined, displeased, as she had dropped various folders and papers were now strewn across the vast hallway.

"Angie! Oh, thank god, Angie, you can't go that way." Derek said sternly, looking her right in the eye.

The Nurse saw his apparent urgency and busied herself with picking up the papers, trying to figure out how to answer him.

She still felt they were on bad terms. She wanted to apologize, she wanted to leap into his arms right then and tell him she loved him, but as it happened, that's how she always felt. She tried to word her apology in her head while picking up the papers, the Doctor scrambling to help as well, wrinkling several papers, much to Angie's displeasure.

Angie quickly took the papers from him once she had picked up the rest, putting them in a disorderly pile on top of the now empty folders she had in her hands.

"Doctor, what…" Angie began, but quickly stopped, looking behind him.

Her eyes widened, and her mouth fell open slightly, her face turning pale. Derek saw her look and slowly turned his head to glance behind him.

Before she knew it, the Doctor had jumped to his feet and was now sprinting down the hallway, dragging her behind him by her wrist. In the confusion she had dropped all of the folders and papers, to her dismay, and they were now how they were just seconds before, strewn across the hallway in a big mess.

She kept pace with the Doctor best she could, following him down the long hallway to the stairwell.

"Doctor," Angie began, already sounding tired "I… Derek, what's…"

"Angie, if you're going to ask me what's going on, I really have no idea." He snapped, pushing the door to the emergency stairwell open forcefully.

"Where are we going?" She asked frantically, following him as he started to climb up the stairs.

Derek didn't answer. His face wore a determined expression, but his eyes were fearful and his hand was shaking as it held Angie's wrist. After they had climbed several flights of stairs, Angie pulled her arm back slightly, forcing the Doctor's attention on her as they continued running up the stairs.

"Doctor Stiles, where are we going?" She questioned him, more irritated than before.

Again, he didn't answer, he just pulled her along up the stairs. Finally, Angie had had enough.

"Derek!" She yelled, forcing him to look at her, his face now confused and urgent as he struggled to pull her up the stairs.

He sighed angrily, pushing through a door when there were finally no more stairs to climb.

"Does this answer your question?" Derek demanded, letting go of her wrist.

After they had stepped out of that door, Angie discovered that he had taken them all the way to the roof of the Caduceus building. Night had fallen on the city, and the dark silhouettes of the various buildings seemed to bleed together with the sky, making the lights that illuminated the insides of these structures look almost like stars. The man-made illuminations seemed to disguise themselves as the celestial guardians that burned far off in space, making the whole scene surreal.

Angie would have taken the time to enjoy this view, if she were not so completely lost and confused by this whole situation.

"Doctor, what's going on?"

Derek had already walked close to the edge of the building, catching his breath.

"I don't think _he_ would bother to chase us all the way up here…" the Doctor trailed off, deep in thought.

Angie stepped closer to him, trying to catch her breath as well.

"Derek why was he here? Do you have any idea what's going on at all?"

"No, I don't Angie. I walked out of my office to come find you to apologize, and he was there." Derek turned around, looking at Angie, who was now about six feet away from him.

He clenched his hands into fists, not sure how to say what he had to say to her. He caught himself several times about to tell her "I love you," and frowned at the amount of self control it took to not say something that important. This was definitely not the time for something like this, as there was way too much going on for him to form a coherent sentence in the void that was his mind.

Angie stepped forward again, and was now within arm's reach of him. She longed to step forward once more and have him hold her, but she knew that was just a dream, and in any case, they were still on bad terms. She looked at him, her eyes pressing for him to keep talking. She needed to hear his apology.

Derek sighed, hanging his head. He didn't know what to say. Words had failed him again. He decided at this moment, words could not describe how sorry he was. Words couldn't begin to express how terrible he had felt after he yelled at her, and how much he just wanted to take back everything he had said. The only way he could express that to her, would be through action, not speech.

He quickly stepped forward, wrapping her in a tight hug. Her eyes widened, surprised as she had just been thinking about this, but she gradually wrapped her arms around him as well, hugging him back tightly. The Doctor pulled away slightly, still holding her in his arms.

He looked into her green eyes and couldn't help but smile. He leaned forward slightly, his face just inches from hers.

Angie blushed at how close they were, the heat flooding to her cheeks, turning them a rosy pink tint. She mirrored him, moving forward more as well, until they were so close she could feel his sweet breath against her lips.

He felt his heart in his throat. His stomach flipped, but he stayed where he was. He knew he had to do this. Angie would never know unless he got up the courage to show her how he really felt about her. This was his apology. But it wasn't just that, this was his way of admitting to her what had been plaguing his mind for so long. This was how almost all of his problems could be resolved.

But, as luck would have it, unexpected events would not cease to follow the Doctor like a curse.

He tensed up, and Angie's eyes flickered open quickly, looking at him. His jaw clenched and his eyes were wide, staring at the door they had just come out of.

"Why all the running?" A deep, menacing voice seemed to float in on the wind's breath.

Angie slowly let go of the Doctor, turning hesitantly in the direction of the voice. Her face went pale for the second time, and even though she had seen this monster before, twice now, it was still as surprising as the previous times.

Here was the embodiment of their final struggle to rid the world of the terrible medical terrorism that was known as GUILT.

Here stood Adam.

* * *

My** god **this did not turn out how I expected.

And I didn't expect it to be so long. I'm sorry! I had to fit it all in... T_T

I seriously hope everyone still likes this! I mean, I may have totally ruined the whole story with this chapter, and I do still find that the first one I wrote was the best, but I'm trying my hardest to make each and every one of these chapters spectacular.

Reviews are always welcome, and I hope you'll continue to read!

3


	4. Into the Dark

The wind, as if agitated by his presence, seemed to pick up immediately, howling and grumbling as it whistled past the sharp jaded edges of the building and rustled the hair of the two living beings on the roof.

Two and a half living beings might be more accurate.

The cloud's breath continued to flood around them and tug at the Doctor and the Nurse, urging them that they were in the wrong spot. Almost begging them to move their legs, tense a muscle,** anything** to save them from this half-dead beast of a pseudo-religious Ark.

The irony of what Adam called himself, the Ark that carried all of the GUILT, wasn't really one of the main concerns of the two medical prodigies as they stood facing the monster.

Derek and Angie weren't really sure what to say or how to react; or even how he seemed to physically be in front of them. It didn't even look like he had feet, it seemed like he just disintegrated into the air and was carried off by the still irritated wind that seemed to scream for them to get away.

Adam seemed to smirk in pleasure at their lack of reciprocation, but it was hard to tell with the vacant look his eye still held.

They still weren't completely sure if he was even alive.

He stepped closer to them, or rather, wafted closer to them, and Derek took a step back.

"Did you really think you got rid of me, Doctor?" His voice seemed quieter than before, the wind carrying it away, so the acid of his words wouldn't so much as tarnish the Doctor's beautiful thoughts.

Derek just stood, stunned. He opened his mouth to talk, but no sound came out, and no thoughts flowed through the channels of his brain. There was nothing. Complete and utter nothing, but it seemed as if the empty space in his brain howled louder than the wind that flowed over the building rooftop.

"I am the blessed Ark that is to bring this new disease into the world, would you really go against the will of God?" Adam seemed to cackle, and his face almost seemed to _crack _with the force of his laughter.

Derek stepped back once more and felt himself at the edge of the building. He didn't know what to do, where to go, and how to respond to Adam's incessant cackling. Up until now, he hadn't really thought of anything. He suddenly remembered about the other person that had been up there with him.

The other beautiful, wonderful, somewhat OCD woman that he had fallen in love with and almost confessed that love to. He looked to where she had been standing, and saw something he didn't expect.

He saw nothing.

Angie was gone. He had no idea where she could've gone, when she could've left, and how on Earth he hadn't noticed. She had been the only thing that had consumed his thoughts since he had known her, and in a few moments of terror, she had disappeared and left him confused.

Everything got darker as Adam floated closer once more. It wasn't that the sky got darker, it already happened to be late in the day. It was that the edges of his vision became darker, and it seemed like Adam was somehow… _glowing_.

Which was weird, because he was half-dead.

Actually, Derek really wasn't sure if he was even in his right mind at the moment. He was sure he was hallucinating.

The Doctor looked behind him, gasping at how far down it was to the street, and at how much traffic there was at this late hour in the night. It didn't seem like Caduceus was this menacing from inside, but now that he was on the very edge of the very tip-top of the building, it seemed like all pretenses of the building were shattered.

He gasped, looking away from the street. He didn't have a fear of heights, at least he was almost positive he didn't, but only having two options to the same outcome made him feel suffocated.

He could stand and face Adam and most likely die, or he could take his chances and jump off, and most likely die.

He decided that jumping off the edge would be a ridiculous decision. It would look as if he committed suicide, no matter if he survived or not.

So, he would stand and face the half-dead floating monster before him.

Adam had nothing left to say, though. He just darted forward, space seeming to distort. He was suddenly in front of the Doctor, causing him to stumble back. He felt the weightlessness as gravity suddenly began to pull him down greedily.

He was suddenly jerked to a halt, looking up.

Clamped around his wrist was a white, almost blue hand, connected to the wispy monster that seemed to flicker out of existence every time the wind would whip at his face. He was still smirking, the sides of his faces seeming to crack.

"Well, Doctor, it looks as if your life is now in your patient's hands… tell me, do you think the grace of God would be in your favor considering your recent events?" He spoke slowly, letting Derek dangle above the side of the building.

Derek scrambled desperately to get his feet to hook onto the side of the building, but to no avail. He looked up to Adam pleadingly.

"I don't think the Lord our savior would be obliged to forgiving a sinner such as yourself for trying to destroy his Holy Ark… However, our great God is very benevolent in the way that he forgives even the most malicious of men and accepts them into his kingdom… I will make you a deal."

Adam loosened his grip on Derek's wrist, causing him to slide down slightly. He began to panic.

"Become the Ark, Derek. Carry on GUILT, the salvation of the world, and help in its research and creation. Become me, Doctor Stiles. Let my spirit fuse with yours and give new life to the so called 'monsters' that you have spent your life exterminating."

Derek suddenly glared at him, terror seeping out of his flesh.

"Never." He spat.

And with that, the cold, pale hand released his wrist.

* * *

IS THIS THE END OF THE STORY?

I dunno. Depends on what you all think. :3

Sorry it took so long to update, school and drawing and emotional people issues. I'm surprised I had the inspiration to write tonight.

Well, please enjoy and review!


	5. Breathless

**Author's Note/Warning: This chapter's a little dark, sorry guys. ;_ ;**

Derek fell.

Of course, that's the general tendency of gravity, to pull you down towards the center of the planet. But, this fall was physically tolling on his body, and he hadn't even hit the hard pavement that was below him, cars screeching to stops as the rush hour traffic became more and more impatient.

The way down seemed to separate his soul from his body, pulling it up and out of his throat as it did so to the oxygen in his system as well. He swore he could see his soul float up past Adam, towards the bleak sky, that moments before was black as ink but was now bright orange and fiery as if he had fallen straight through the Earth into the pits of Hell.

What seemed off to him was that he was flailing around madly in the air (as one probably would in this situation), but he stayed with his back parallel to the ground. He frantically tried to reach for the side of the building, but stayed in the same general direction, much to his dismay.

At this point, it felt as if a hand was pressing him down towards the ground. There was a firm pressure on his chest, and what was left of his breath caught in his throat, making him gasp.

But, another event caused him to gasp again, making him even more lightheaded than he already was.

What he saw above him was another figure moving swiftly towards him. He could tell from anywhere what it was.

Angie. Somehow Angie was now falling with him, but a lot faster than he was. She looked beautiful even with her eyes closed and her hair flailing behind her wildly. He didn't realize it, but this was probably a very inappropriate time for him to be focused on how gorgeous she was in the wind.

He reached his arms out to try to catch her as she flew past, and felt her hair brush his fingertips, but she was just out of his reach.

He looked up at the sky, eyes wide. He knew he should stop listening. He should close his eyes and his ears and wait to die. He didn't want to hear what he knew was going to happen next.

But he didn't move.

He heard it. He heard the sickening thump that marked a solid body hitting another solid hunk of mass that was much bigger than the one prior.

That was it. That was the final straw. He felt something snap inside of him and an incredible rage pour out of his heart into his blood stream, making his skin hot. He had never felt this spike of adrenaline and emotion. He didn't know what to do.

So he cried.

He felt his heart break. He felt himself get physically heavier, and he just felt himself tear in two. The sobs were ripped from his chest as tears were forced up into the air since he was still horizontal.

The woman he loved. The most beautiful woman in the entire world to him, the most intelligent, wittiest, quirkiest, most fantastically unique, bubbly personality packed into the body of an angel. That woman, the woman that made his brain a fluffy pile of mush that impeded his thought process, was now no longer of this world. She was where he felt she belonged, in the heavens with the rest of the angels that decided to put such a wonderful being onto the Earth.

And he screamed. He screamed violently and like a little kid when he lost his most very favorite toy. The one thing the most precious to him in the whole entire world he would no longer get to hold, he wouldn't hear her melodious voice, he would never get to tell her the most important and truest three words that he would've ever spoken to anyone in his entire live.

He would never get to tell her he loved her.

That killed him. All the time he worked closely with this angel, and the little bits of his personality that were meant for self-preservation kept his feelings to himself. He would always snap at her, and she would snap right back. He hated it. He hated that he never got to kiss her. He hated that he never got to tell her what was on his mind. He hated that he couldn't protect her. He absolutely abhorred that the monster that they had done away with years ago was now rearing its ugly head and he could do nothing to save her.

Most of all, he hated himself.

He hated his personality. He hated that he knew she deserved better. He hated that he didn't do what she asked him, and he hated that he couldn't make her happy. He hated how he looked, and he hated that he had failed at a recent operation. He hated that he failed in general.

He felt like he should've died in her place. He just wanted her to live and be happy.

He just wanted to die.

The rest of his scream ripped out of his chest and echoed off of the various buildings that he flew past. He just closed his eyes as he continued to cry without any sign of stopping, coming closer and closer to hitting the ground.

He hit the ground, but it didn't feel as he thought it would. There was no loud thump, there was no pain, there was no utter blackness.

He hit the ground.

And he woke up.

* * *

Ohmygod this chapter is so short I'm sososo sorry.

All my other chapters are a little under 2,000 words, but this one isn't even 1,000...

**Actually, just now I added like 300 words to it, so it's over 1,000 now. I don't feel horrible anymore. xD**

I'm sorry, this was just all I could write about in this chapter. And I suppose that falling off a building wouldn't give you enough time to think of this stuff anyways. Oh well. Adrenaline I guess.

Please review, I'd love to hear what you have to say!


	6. Emerald

Literally, Derek woke up.

And it was hardly pleasant at all.

His head shot up, his pupils dialated, as he looked around his surroundings. He quickly closed his eyes again as he took off his glasses, putting his free hand over his eyes. He tried to calm down, to slow his heart rate that had ever so quickly risen to the point of almost being fatal, and held his breath to keep himself from hyperventilating, although he was pretty sure he already had been. He removed his hand from over his eyes and ran it through his hair, exhaling sharply. His head was pounding and a bead of sweat trickled down his temple to his jaw bone before he wiped it away quickly, gasping for air again.

What _was _that?

He looked at the clock on his desk, and noticed that it was noon. Although he normally wasn't confused about when it was, or really cared for that matter, whatever had just happened put him all out of sorts.

When had he fallen asleep? For that matter, since when was he in his office? When did he have the time to sit at his desk and fall asleep on top of his paperwork?

His paperwork.

He looked down at the papers strewn across his desk and rifled through them, desperately trying to figure out what was going on, and what the date was. He wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep, and he wasn't really sure what was his dream and what had been reality.

Suddenly, he heard the familiar click of his office door, the sound seeming to resonate even more fully than it had in previous experiences, probably due to his surge of adrenaline upon waking up from that horrid nightmare, or hallucination for all he knew. As if on cue, there was the urgent soft click of heels, carrying with them an unparalleled professionalism that he knew had only belonged to one person out of all the people that he had ever met in his entire life.

"Doctor Stiles." The woman's voice scolded, urgently slamming down another pile of folders, now drawing his attention to one that was sitting right next to him. Urgent seemed to be the entire aura of this entity, the entire aura of the room, which made him feel a bit anxious as his adrenaline combined with this new feeling of urgency.

This situation felt familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on _why._ Why did he feel like the way this woman talked, the way she said his name, the way she walked into the room quickly with strides bigger than they needed to be, feel so familiar like he had witnessed it all before?

Of course, she was his assistant, but there had always been variety when she had walked into their shared office. She had never scolded him the same way twice, and of course only he picked up on the subtle differences in her tone and the way she walked.

"Are you really slacking off, again? If you keep neglecting your paperwork, I'm sure someone other than me is going to start being angry with you."

Her professional voice cut into the atmosphere of the room, making the brown haired Doctor's deep chocolate eyes to widen in recognition. He _had _heard this before. This wasn't just some coincidence.

Déjà vu much.

He looked up at his blonde assistant's infinitely emerald eyes, noticing the hint of impatience quickly fade away and ghost into an expression of pure worry at her disheveled looking Doctor, looking worn out and completely lost at his own desk.

"Doctor-" she began, clearing her throat as a look of pain washed over the Doctor's face "D-Derek, are you… alright?"

Derek didn't respond. He just sat there, staring into eyes that seemed to bore into the very core of his existence, spreading warmth throughout his subconscious and making him feel like he _should _be alright. He knew he should be alright, he didn't want to see **that look **on her face. Her perfect, angelic, porcelain skin shouldn't wrinkle like _that_. She should have her face show the lines of worry and concern that can only be caused by someone she cares about. Especially him.

She shouldn't worry about him.

He opened his mouth to say something, but no words escaped him. He closed his mouth quickly again and looked down at his hands contemplatively, fiddling with a paper on his desk.

"Derek, if you're not feeling well, we can postpone the operation…" the angel in front of him murmured, clasping her hands in front of her gently. Her urgency had totally washed away and in front of him stood the timid side of his nurse that hardly ever showed itself, but that he loved all the same as her normally professional exterior.

So he had fallen asleep earlier while doing his paperwork. Finally, he understood where, or _when _he was.

He shook his head quickly, getting up from his desk slowly. That dream had to have been telling him something. He knew exactly what it was telling him, but he didn't know if he could do what it was asking him to do. He knew he wanted to, desperately, and had wanted to ever since he had first seen the expanse of her beautiful emerald eyes that had a smile to them even when she was frowning.

"No, no…" he muttered, stepping around his desk to stand in front of her. He looked down at the white tiles on the floor and bit his lip, trying to think of what to do.

There it was again. That sporadic cluster of thoughts that had caused so many problems time and time again.

He couldn't let this game continue. This game that was hardly a game, since games are normally supposed to be fun for one person at least. He wasn't positive, but he didn't think Angie was having fun either.

Or if she even knew that they were playing.

"Angie, I…" he began, stopping himself. He had to word this right, this was a big deal.

"Doctor…?" She asked timidly, eyes probing his.

"Stop that." He snapped, looking up at her. She expected to see his eyes angry, for his eyes conveyed an irritation, but instead what she saw was pleading.

_What?_

"I… excuse me…?" She whispered, bringing her hand up to her mouth tentatively.

"Stop calling me Doctor, Angie. I know we're at work, but please, don't call me that." He sighed, stepping closer to her, taking her wrist gently and taking her hand away from her face.

"I don't understand, Doctor…"

"Angie, _stop_!" he pleaded, eyes looking more and more distressed. "Stop calling me that, just stop! Don't we know each other well enough that you can call me my name? Haven't we worked together long enough that you can call me something else than Doctor? It sounds so professional, Angie, and it doesn't sound right. I want to hear you say _my_ _name_, Ang." He reached out and took her other hand, now holding both tenderly in his hands, looking down at them.

"Hasn't it been long enough that you could call me by my name?" He asked again, quieter than before. "Haven't we been through so much together? You may get irriated with me at times, and I can relate… But that shouldn't make a difference, Angie. Should it? Don't you think it shouldn't?"

His brown eyes twinkled when they met hers, and a smile curled the sides of his lips, and she noticed that his eyes were turning slightly red and that there was a diamond glistening in the corner of his eye.

He was… crying?

"Derek-" she began, but stopped when he shook his head at her.

"Angie… " he began, and bit his lip.

"_Don't you love me enough_?"

* * *

Oh hi, long chapter.

This is finally a chapter that I've written that's longer than 1,000 words on it's own. OTL;;

SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG GUYS. Pokemon Black is a life eater /lazy

I hope you enjoyyyy, I don't know how I feel about the ending. xD

Reviews always make me happy3


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